


Friendly Fire

by Godsliltippy



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen, Whumptober 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-24 21:57:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16183982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Godsliltippy/pseuds/Godsliltippy
Summary: Entry for Whumptober! Couldn't help joining in!Virgil and Gordon are on site of a routine rescue. It should have been simple. No one was supposed to get hurt.





	Friendly Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Yay for whumptoper! Hope y'all enjoy!

Dust caked the plexiglass of his helmet, the soft taps of crumbled cement sounding as the debris fell from the opening above. For a long moment, Virgil didn't move, too shocked by the sudden change in his location. The pain slowly started to creep across his side, blossoming into intense stabbing as his lungs finally allowed him a gasped breath.

 

_ Ow… okay, don't breathe… _ Not too hard, anyway. Taking in small sips of air, he tried his best to assess his situation. Fingers moved, the right hand still clutching the laser cutter he had been operating. They'd been helping clear large chunks of cement and drywall from a collapsed building. 

 

_ Gordon! _

 

They - being Gordon and himself - had taken the emergency call, reassured that there were only a small handful of people who had been inside the building at the time of the collapse. Mostly surveyors doing a last minute assessment since the building had been scheduled for demolition. Too bad it was for good reason.

 

The empty hand reached up to find his comm, activating it with a weak press. “Gordo?” The ache burned up his side again, catching his breath in its wake. The possibilities were running through his mind as the pain pulsed into something he could manage. Laceration, broken or bruised ribs, broken back - a foot wiggle eliminated that thought - impaled… He shut down the list as his brother responded. 

 

A grunt of effort, Gordon sounding as though he were moving something heavy as he spoke. “Virge? You okay?”

 

“Been better.” His glove brushed the dirt from his helmet. He could see the opening more clearly, noticing the section of debris he had been cutting was still firmly in place. “I'm guessing a fractured rib or two.”

 

A scraping sound echoed above, movements from his brother, he hoped. “I'm - gonna find some stairs.” Another grunt followed by a few deep breaths.

 

Virgil's mind had been focused on the pain in his chest, trying to relax the muscles that seemed to be tensing with each pulse. The minutes stretched, feeling like hours until the creak of a door to his right pulled his attention away. Carefully, he turned to see his brother step into the hallway. Gordon's movements were slow, deliberate as he stepped over remnants of walls, or was it ceiling… He decided on both, but something else was tickling at the back of his mind. The thought was gone by the time the aquanaut crouched down beside him. 

 

Gordon's voice was soft as he spoke, already retrieving the scanner from his belt. “I'd ask if you had a nice trip - but that seems a little insensitive.” With his left hand, Gordon swept the device over Virgil's chest, the sensor indicating it was reading some damage. “Fracture it is, Virge. It’s gotta hurt like hell.”

 

The relief from simply knowing what was wrong gave him enough resolve to try and push himself up. The pain faired, but he pushed through it, wanting to get back to the job. 

 

“H-hey -” Gordon dropped the scanner, placing the hand on the medic's shoulder. “Just relax. Scott's on his way with Alan.”

 

That sparked an anger that only flared when Virgil was limited, either physically or he was overextending himself. He knew he was injured, but with Gordon's help, they could still get the job done. Why bring in two brothers who were on standby if another emergency came up?

 

Wrapping an arm around his torso, he sent a glare at the aquanaut. “I can keep going. You know I've done worse.” Just to prove the point, he pulled his feet up, pushing himself up into a pained hobble. His free arm linked around Gordon's, still on his shoulder. 

 

The cry that escaped the blonde's throat sent a chill up Virgil's spine, both brothers coming back down to sit on the rubble. Gordon's eyes were clenched as he breathed through the pain from the unseen wound.

 

“Gordon?” Virgil swallowed, trying to ignore his own aching chest. “What's wrong?”

 

“Just -” His jaw clenched as his left hand went up to the opposite shoulder, trying to relieve whatever was hurting him. “Just wait for Scott, -k?”

 

The plea in his brother's voice sent alarms through Virgil's head. There was no reason for Gordon to be hiding an injury. Picking up the discarded scanner, he swept it over the younger man's right shoulder. 

 

“Virgil! No -” But it was too late. The device chimed with the results, almost seeming happy to report the laceration running across the aquanaut's back. 

 

“Turn around, Gordo.” The scanner forgotten, Virgil placed a gentle hand on the aquanaut's left arm, trying to encourage compliance. “I need to see it.”

 

“Please, just let Scott handle it.” Virgil was shocked to see the glint of tears.

 

“Turn around.” Virgil spoke firmly, despite the throb in his side.

 

For a beat, it seemed like Gordon was going to continue his stubborn refusal, but slowly, he shifted, exposing the damage to the medic.

 

Virgil's eyes grew wide, his heart plummeting through the floor as he took in the line of exposed, dark red muscle, the skin and blue fabric charred and melted together. The damage stretched from the top of the right shoulder, down the scapula and just to the yellow belt. Charred yellow metal wore a deep scar, the only thing standing between the laser and his brother's body. 

 

Laser…  _ his _ laser.

 

Virgil's mouth opened, wanting to say something, anything to make it all go away. Nothing came out as the guilt overwhelmed him. How could he have been so careless? He could have - 

 

“Virgil?” Gordon's voice was small as he turned around. It was obvious in the medic's expression the despair he was feeling. “Not your fault. It was just an accident. I'm okay.”

 

The new ache in his chest was worse than the cracked rib. It brought with it a nausea that forced a shaky breath in and out, no longer able to look at his little brother. The room began to tilt, the hole he had fallen through filling his vision. It took him a moment to realise he was laying down. 

 

“Take it easy.” The smaller hand slipped into his. “Scott and Alan will be here soon. It's going to be alright.”

 

“I - shot you…” Virgil felt the tear slide from the corner of his eye.

 

“And I told you it was an accident.” Gordon's voice had lightened some, the telltale sign he was trying to cheer up his turmoil-ridden brother. “I blame the floor, really. Doesn't it realize we're trying to work?”

 

Virgil groaned, unable to stop the change in his self-loathing. He wanted so much to get his brother out of there and somewhere safe, but here he was laying on the floor like he was worse off that he actually was. And Gordon, injured, but still trying to make him laugh. He couldn't live with himself if he let  _ that  _ go on any longer.

 

For the second time in less than ten minutes, Virgil was pushing himself up again, supporting his torso as he made it upright. Amber eyes qwere regarding him with concern, the aquanaut shaking his head. 

 

“I'm fine. I just - How bad?” Virgil gestured to the shoulder.

 

Gordon frowned, sighing as the left hand came up again, resting over his right collar bone. “Not great, but I'll live.” Virgil didn't miss the slight tremor in the blonde's voice. 

 

“What's wrong?” He knew he had his brother when Gordon tried to brush him off with a quick smirk and ‘Nothin’ I can't handle’. “Gordon, please.” Virgil couldn't stand to see his brother trying to protect him from the truth. “I need to know.”

 

“Can't we just sit here and wait to be rescued, like everyone else we meet?” Gordon pouted, again lightening the weight that was pressing on Virgil's shoulders. He had experience with his brothers whining about medical treatment after a mission. The wounds were never inflicted by him, though. At his raised brow, Gordon conceded. “It's just the effects of the trauma. It'll get better after some reconstructive surgery.”

 

Virgil understood his brother would be needing some kind of repair, but that didn't mean he would let the wound get worse just because Gordon wanted to spare his feelings. He already felt terrible. What was one more blow?

 

It also didn't help that he had some inkling as to what the effects were. “Show me.” He held out his hand towards the arm that lay against the blonde's side.

 

Gordon's eyes fell, his jaw tightening before he let out a small groan, the fingers on his right hand flexing briefly. Breathing through the pain, he flashed Virgil a lopsided smile. “That's the best I can do right now.”

 

The curse slipped out before he could stop it, eliciting a startled chuckle from his brother, followed by a wince. 

 

“Thanks for sugar coating it for me.” The aquanaut smiled, back to his job of descilating a situation. “I think it's just coming from the muscle damage. Could've been a lot worse if it wasn't for this.” He patted the yellow belt. 

 

A low rumble outside told them help had arrived, the building trembling with the sound. They sat silently, hoping the movement wouldn't bring the rest of the place down on them. The silence that followed was only interrupted by the pattering of loose stones as they fell.

 

_ “Hey, guys!”  _ Alan chirped over the radio.  _ “Heard you could use some help.” _

 

“Hey, squirt.” Gordon replied with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. “Took you long enough. Was Scott in grandpa-mode?”

 

_ “I can still turn around and go home.” _ Their older brother warned.

 

Virgil gave Gordon a warning smile even as they heard the boots clambering up the stairs. He still felt the ache of guilt mingling with the fractured rib, but his brother had a way of providing verbal pain relievers. It was one of the few things he admired about his goofball sibling. On rescues, he could distract the injured, calm the crying, and even encourage laughter in those who had faced death head on. It was a rare talent, and one he'd almost lost. 

 

Half an hour later, they were laying in Thunderbird 2's infirmary, Virgil with a bandage wrapped around his torso, Gordon on his stomach, gause loosely placed over his would. They were waiting for Scott and Alan to finish finding the last three people trapped in the building, two others already sitting in the pod bay. 

 

A soft snore pulled Virgil's attention from the ceiling, turning to see Gordon asleep, the pain medication doing its job well enough for the aquanaut to doze off. The medic counted it as a blessing, remembering the sounds from his brother as he was helped out of the building. Gordon didn't deserve to be in that kind of pain. 

 

Virgil smiled as another snore escaped the blonde, the sound replacing the memories of earlier. He turned back to the ceiling, counting the rivets holding together each panel. Eventually, his eyes began to shut, and he let himself drift. Sleep was an escape and one he welcomed freely. There would be time for him to make up for his mistake and ensure Gordon got everything he needed. Knowing his brother, he would be resistant, continuing on about Virgil not owing him a thing. Maybe he would give his brother a pass to pull a few pranks. Those tended to be fun for everyone, except the victim of course. It was a payment he was willing to make.

 

As he finally fell asleep, Gordon's voice drifted into his head, reminding him once more that it wasn't his fault. The reassurance was enough to ward off the nightmares that should have plague his sleep. 

 

And that's how their brothers found them, untroubled by the stress of the day and content to stay in dreamland where pain was a distant memory.

  
  



End file.
